


Imaginary Friend

by RavishMeRaulson



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: F/F, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 04:22:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10779483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavishMeRaulson/pseuds/RavishMeRaulson
Summary: Do you remember when you had an imaginary friend? Would you ever go this far for them?





	Imaginary Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Mild trigger warning. Idk where this idea came from, but enjoy! Feedback greatly appreciated. ;) Leave me prompts, guys. Or dm me @mscordeliaday on instagram!

She was eight years old the first time she heard that strange little accent. It was during the first week her and her mother, if one could even call her such, moved to New Orleans. It was very Louisiana-Cajun, but something about it calmed her, even when she should be feeling scared. The little girl deduced that the voice sounded only slightly younger, and less mannerful, than her own. About six months after she finally settled into her new school, she came home crying one day, immediately locking herself in her room. Her mother wouldn’t care. Fiona Goode, was, well, nothing you expected a mother to be like. She was selfish, careless and power hungry. She was addicted to cocaine, cigarettes, and alcohol and was hardly coherent enough to take care of her own daughter, lest a coven. Oh. Yeah. She was the Supreme, which basically meant that she was the Queen Bee of all the witches. While she wasted away in her drunken stupor, her little girl sat sobbing in her room on account of her bi colored eyes. The child had what you called heterochromia, which basically means two different eye colors. Her right eye was a brilliant, iridescent shade that often mirrored the sky in early morning just after sunrise. Her left, however, was a deep burnt sienna that was the color of the dirt the eight year old liked to plant her flowers in. With her head buried in the pillow, her blonde hair blanketed the sides of her face. The small child’s body shook at the intensity of her sobs until they turned into sniffles. It was then she heard that voice again..

“Why ya cryin’?” It startled the girl, who sat up quickly, bits of her hair sticking to her pale, tear stained cheeks. There stood in front of her a little girl, no more than six, who..well, she looked like a gypsy. She spoke with an accent, the same one the eight year old had heard before. 

“How’d you get in here?” The girl paid her no mind. 

“Why are ya cryin’, ya eyes are really pretty! What’s ya name?”

“Cordelia, what’s yours?”This little girl looked absolutely at ease, completely comfortable, which was the exact opposite of how Cordelia felt! She was tense and her breath came in short bursts, her anxiety throwing her for a loop. 

“My names Misty Day!” Misty, the strange little girl, flashed a toothy grin, some obviously missing. Cordelia began to relax. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Misty, how old are you?” She held up two hands. 

“Six! How old are ya?” Cordelia smiled.

“Im eight. Where are you from?” Misty flopped on the bed and tilted her head slightly. 

“Im dead.” Cordelia’s eyes widened, startled. 

“What?” She couldn’t formulate any other response than that. This little gypsy six year old was...dead? Misty nodded her head.  
“Yeah, Mama an’ Papa didn’ die though.” 

“How’d you- um, well, do you-” Misty jumped in. 

“How’d i die?” Cordelia bit her lip and nodded. 

“There was a fire an’ well,” the little girl shrugged. 

“Mama was out an’ Papa was drunk, I jus’ didn’ make it out.” The eight year old couldn’t wrap her head around how such a young spirit was able to comprehend that she had passed. 

“Will ya be my best friend?” Mist broke through her thoughts and Cordelia found herself nodding before fully thinking it over. Her best friend was a ghost. 

Let’s just hope Mother doesn’t find out, she’d have me committed. 

 

(/////////////////////////////////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\) 

They talked constantly and Cordelia was thankful her mother was mostly too drunk to pay her any mind. No more were the days where she felt isolated and alone, she had Misty! The girl had a physical form, all her energy focused on being in the moment and Cordelia shivered the first time her skin came in contact with Misty’s. It was cold, much colder than she had originally thought it would be. It was a particularly bad thunderstorm and while Cordelia herself had never been afraid, Misty was petrified. She scooped the little girl up and buried her next to her under the covers, cradling her while Misty curled up next to Cordelia.

I wonder if she misses her parents.. She’s obviously tied to this house for a reason or else she would’ve crossed over by now, right? 

The six year old fell asleep quickly with the occasional whimper and the older girl didn’t realise how tired she was until her eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Soon, she too was asleep. Cordelia woke up the next morning, around eleven-ish and was surprised. Misty was still there. However, probably because of her energy being put into sleeping, she seemed almost transparent, Cordelia could practically see straight through her! She shimmered, almost like a diamond, like she dematerialised before Cordelia’s eyes, only to reappear solid seconds later. The blonde heard the clack of heels and refused to wake Misty up, but panicked and laid on top of her. When Fiona opened the door, Cordelia was just pretending to wake up, her blanket thrown over Misty and her hand on Misty’s chest, pinning her down. Her mother barked out orders for her to report down to breakfast and to not look so disheveled. The child nodded and was quick to get off Misty as soon as the door clicked shut. The gypsy girl shot up. 

“Are ya okay?? Who was that?” Cordelia sighed. 

“My mother.” She thought for a moment. 

“Listen, you’re more than welcome to stay here, but i gotta go down for a few, i’ll be back soon.” Misty nodded and Cordelia curled her finger around the young girl’s, a pinkie promise. Misty stared up at her with wide eyes and Cordelia too a split second to get lost in the little girl’s brilliant pale turquoise eyes. A second was all she had before she rushed away, getting dressed. This was how she spent her days, more often than not now. Curled up with Misty, rushing away, coming back, repeat. Except when she had school and Fiona had work, then Misty had free reign of the house.Cordelia began teaching Misty manners and things that she stopped learning due to her passing. For some reason or another, Cordelia never told Misty she was a witch, but still taught her potions and plants and herbs and medicine and just about anything Misty wanted to know about. A few years down the line, when Cordelia was twelve and Misty was ten, she finally told Misty about her being a witch. 

“I know.” was her response and the conversation was silent until MIsty piped up again. 

“I am too.” Her demeanor grew sad and Cordelia embraced her. When her bare skin connected to Misty’s, it was different this time, she could see everything Misty was thinking about. 

It was Misty at age five, sleeping peacefully as possible, her father passed out on the couch, a bottle of what looked like moonshine tossed haphazardly on the floor, spilling. His cigar hung loosely on the edge of his lips until it fell and landed right near the bottle, engulfing the carpeting quickly. The man woke up as his hand began to burn, shouting explicatives and scurried out of the house. Drunkenly calling 911, Misty laid asleep in her bed, completely forgotten. Cordelia watched at the flames licked higher and higher, engulfing the second floor and eventually Misty. 

The tween pulled away quickly, tears streaming down her cheeks. She looked at the ten year old next to her and she looked so small, despite being close to Cordelia in height already. She pulled her to her again and threaded her fingers through Misty’s curly unruly blonde hair, wanting to protect this girl with her life and wishing beyond all hope that Misty would never have something this traumatic happen to her ever again. 

Of course she won’t, she’s dead. 

She scowled to herself, hating that she reminded herself of this fact. That night, the pair slept cuddled together again, but as soon as Misty was asleep, Cordelia twirled and traced her finger over Misty’s skin when she was hit with another vision. 

It was Misty at age five, banging on the door to her bedroom as it barely shook under the weight of her little body. Her parents were arguing and eventually her father, angry and drunk, threw his bottle of what looked like moonshine into the fire place, causing the fire to roar with life. It engulfed the carpet, eating everything in it’s path. Little Misty threw herself against the door until being trapped by the fire. Beams fell and her room was quickly swarmed, the window being her last option. Breaking the glass with a nearby object, she stood on the ledge, her gaze shifting between the fire and the two story drop. Cordelia watched in horror as baby Misty’s hair floated around her face as she stepped off the ledge. She honestly looked like she was flying..until she twisted mid air and landed on her back with a sickening crack. 

She shifted, removing her finger. It took everything in her not to vomit. Years later, when Cordelia turned sixteen, she didn’t have a big bash, just a quiet movie night, Misty, now fourteen and already taller than Cordelia sprawled across her lap. They were watching some sappy movie called The Notebook and Cordelia sighed. 

“What’s wrong, Delia?” The teen laughed and shrugged. 

“I just wish i had someone like that, someone with that dedication and love. I don't know, im being weird, ignore me.” She laughed it off, but Misty sat up and stared at her best friend. 

“I love ya, an’ if anythin’ were to happ’n, I would gladly do that for ya.” Cordelia sniffled and looked away. 

Even though somewhere, deep and unspoken, they both knew the truth, it was good to forget sometimes. What had she done to deserve someone as brilliant at Misty? She loved her best friend desperately.. And honestly, she couldn’t stand her being with anyone else, even if that couldn’t actually happen.

She carried her best friend to her, now their, bedroom and they began snuggling almost right away. While the wild blonde slept soundly next to her, Cordelia lay awake staring at the ceiling. She was still surprised that Fiona didn’t notice. Maybe she could create a potion like that, to bring Misty back. The blonde fell asleep, a small smile on her face and determination in her heart. 

It took almost two years to the day to perfect, at least what she thought and Misty still unaware of it. As the pair grew older, their powers grew and soon Cordelia had the Sight, could transmutate, had telekinesis, divination and pyrokinesis. She almost had all of the Seven Wonders, not that she would tell her mother. That would go over well. 

 

Oh by the way, Fiona, i’m the reason you’re losing health, i’m slowly killing you. 

She’s sure Fiona would sooner kill her than let that happen. Cordelia was unaware of her mother’s presence as she turned around from working on her potion. Fiona spoke with her briefly, embraced her quickly, and unbeknownst to Cordelia, slipped something into the potion before pulling away and disappearing. The young blonde was startled at the sudden affection from her mother and began to fiddle with her potion again. A few weeks later, when Fiona was out of the house, the pair had dinner in the dining room and afterwards, Cordelia produced a vial of purple liquid from her pocket. She explained to Misty that it was supposed to make her solid and able to leave the premises. Misty was skeptical but eventually drank it, Cordelia’s puppy dog eyes irresistible to her. When Misty got suddenly sick, Cordelia began to worry and soothed her, but it wasn’t fifteen minutes later that Misty was fine. 

“I can heal myself an’ things.” Cordelia let out a breath in wonder as Misty looked sheepish, embarrassed almost. 

“Resurgence. What you have is the power of resurgence.” Misty tried the words on her tongue. 

“The power of resurgence. I kinda like that.” She was thrilled, but the woman with the mismatched eyes couldn’t help be disappointed. 

She’d worked so hard for this, only to have it ripped from her. She wouldn’t give up though, she loved her best friend too much to even entertain that idea. 

Again, she had spent the better part of two more years trying her hand at anything just to make her best friend removed from this purgatory. One day, much like that off two years prior, Fiona walked in while she was in the greenhouse. She heard her mother tsk and without turning around, she bit out, 

“When will you just die?” She felt a force come over her and felt herself being twisted around and pinned to the wall. Fiona approached her and put out her cigarette. 

“When will you stop being such a child, Delia, i mean, you’re already 20, god knows you need to be looking for a suitor, not that you have much to offer them, honestly.” Cordelia squirmed against her invisible bonds and groaned. 

“As a matter of fact, Fiona, that’d none of your business, but if you must know, i already have my eye on someone.” The younger woman felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as she become hyper aware of Misty’s presence. 

Fuck.

“Please tell me you don’t mean that gypsy ghost woman you parade around with all the time. What was her name?” 

FUCK. 

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re on about.” She felt her airways constrict and gasp as it stopped all of sudden and she plummeted the few short feet to the ground. Coughing and spluttering, she looked up and saw the wild blonde in question, standing diagonally in front of her, that mirroring a protective stance. Misty wasn’t about to let anyone harm Cordelia, not even her own mother. 

“Don’t ya dare touch her!” The gypsy woman was furious and she snarled at Fiona. This only caused the woman to laugh at how ridiculous the pair looked to her. 

“Way to bring your pet out to protect you, Delia, dear.” The eldest witch lit yet another cigarette and watched as Misty advanced on her. Cordelia couldn’t move, fear striking her immobile. 

“See, this was precisely what i’d hoped to avoid. Maybe it was wrong of me to let you two grow so attached.” When Cordelia spoke, it was hardly above a whisper. 

“What’s that, child, speak up! Nobody likes a mumbler. Come on. ” FIona was always one for manners. 

“I said, how did you know?” The older blonde scoffed, putting out her cigarette on a nearby counter. Crossing her arms, she approached the nearly feral Misty and the petrified Cordelia. Misty lunged at Fiona and was flung aside, hitting the wall with a loud thud. As Fiona stood above Cordelia, she spoke lowly and threateningly, 

“I make it my business to know what’s going on in my house. Now, if you’re finished with this little gypsy rat-” Cordelia threw herself at Fiona, the both of them falling to the floor. A loud resounding crack echoed through the greenhouse, Cordelia yelping in pain. She scurried off her mother and sat down against the opposite wall, Misty quickly crawling over and healing Cordelia’s misshapen wrist. Fiona was about to comment, but watched in awe as the healer did her job. Shaking off her amazement, she bit back, 

“Well well, isn’t this just pathetic.You have to have your little pet help you. While i admit, it's a rare and brilliant gift, it’s of no use to anyone, what with her being dead and all.” Fiona paced slowly back and forth, watching the pair. Misty stood weakly, her lip split open and a bruise forming on her forehead. Fiona tsked again and began ranting. Turning her back on the pair, Cordelia walked in front of Misty and sighed. She felt her best friend’s arms wrap around her shoulders, but her eyes were transfixed on her mother, her energy focused on her mother’s words. 

They’re true. Useless. Weak. Pathetic. Worthless. She’s just speaking the truth. 

All because of her attention being directed to another place, she saw her mother turn around, and in that exact moment, she felt the cool blade of her garden shears cut their way across her jugular, and Misty’s voice whisper “i love you”. Her vision swam as she felt herself collapse on the floor, everything going dark and her mother’s horrified eyes burned behind her eyelids. When she opened her eyes again, she stood next to Misty, her vision zeroed in on her lifeless body as Fiona kneeled over it. She wasn’t sure what she read on her mother’s face, but off the persistent tugging of Misty, she didn’t stick around to find out. The two transmutated, if you can even still call it that here in the spirit world, to the roof of the house and the pair sat stargazing. Misty stumbled over her words in an effort to get an apology out, but nothing seemed to be right to Misty. 

How do you tell the love of your life, the woman you just killed so you could have her forever, that you’re sorry? If you find out, let Misty know. 

Cordelia laughed and pressed her lips against Misty’s quickly. The wild blonde smiled when they pulled apart. The older blonde rested her head on Misty’s chest as she spoke softly, 

“I love you, too Misty.” She felt Misty press a kiss to her head and oddly, she didn’t feel tired like she expected. She sat up quickly, every night from the past twelve years flashing behind her eyes. 

“Wait, Mist, do ghosts even need sleep?” Off of her girlfriend’s smirk, she knew her answer and laid back down, burying her face in Misty’s shoulder. 

No. 

Of course they didn’t.


End file.
